September 4, 2014
I walked the coast path with Hugh today. Hugh is a writer and artist whose poems appeared in The Inner Sea. It started foggy and cool but by midday the morning haze had retreated to the horizon. We saw a seal surface to watch the waves rustle through the carracks, and a stonechat flitting and chirping about the rocks. […]
August 24, 2014
Ghosts are billowing through the field: rain on wind. I’m sitting on the cushion keeping an eye on myself. The lights are off so the dim Sunday evening light is the same inside as out — grey as a classic movie you might watch on a day like this. Trees sway by the side of […]
August 20, 2014
When the lighthouse disappears locals say you have ten minutes before the town is lashed with rain. Sure enough, Godrevy was silhouetted against blue-grey vagueness while the bay shone, claustrophobically, with light reflected back onto the water by the clouds. Then outcrop and headland were deleted by mist. We heard it before we felt it: a shimmer in hedgerows and trees like […]
August 1, 2014
Weather here breezes in suddenly, opens the fridge and vanishes again much like a teenager. Rain greyed out the bay in minutes. The headlands disappeared one by one and then, impressive though it is, there was really nothing to look at but a blank wall of water. Even so, my cat has been keeping a watchful eye […]
July 18, 2014
Lightning arced on all sides of the bay for nearly two hours. Great forks and ambient flashes lit the warm front, turning rooms blue and pink. Rain made wooden sounds on rooftops. Storms like this are nature’s epiphanies, its big neurons flickering to make a black sea imaginable to itself for the briefest possible time.